


Let Me See You Smile

by Songstress42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songstress42/pseuds/Songstress42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a beautiful blue-eyed stranger with a tragic past passes out drunk in the Roadhouse, Dean brings him home. Destiel, AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nowhere Man

Dean didn't notice the man at first. The roadhouse was bursting, as it usually was on a Saturday night, and Ellen kept directing him towards every woman who came up, knowing that with his eyes and smile, the tip money would pour out of them like the vodka into the cosmopolitans they all ordered.

It was on his third pass from the back room to the till that he noticed the brooding stranger in a rumpled trench coat and backwards tie nursing a glass of something amber, Dean would guess scotch judging by the bottle that sat on the inner bar waiting for the expected refill.

His eyes stopped Dean in his tracks.

They were bluer than Dean thought possible and intense, despite the fact that he had clearly already had a few, as he stared off at nothing in particular.

Another rush of ladies stole away Dean's attention but he still kept an eye on the guy and as the night wore on and the crowd thinned, Dean finally found an opportunity to approach him when it looked like his glass could use a refill.

"You want another?"

The blue gaze lifted from the back of the bar to meet Dean's and Dean found himself pinned by eyes that were even more powerful than he'd been expecting. It was as though the man was looking right into Dean's very soul.

"Yes thank you." The stranger said in a gruff voice, pushing the glass forward a bit with a lazy brush of his fingers.

Dean filled it up and the man took a pull, setting it down and focusing back on the same spot he'd been staring at all night.

"Rough day?" Dean asked conversationally.

The gaze was back and powerful as ever.

"Rough year." He replied cryptically, eyes lingering on Dean for a moment before falling back to their thousand-light-year stare.

Dean took that as his cue to leave.

He probably should have cut the man off at some point. He wasn't causing trouble and he didn't seem to be very affected by the booze – plus he had pulled out a wad of cash when Dean had casually mentioned that if he wanted to continue drinking he'd have to provide a credit card – but no one could sit and drink straight scotch for as long as he had and not be feeling it quite acutely.

Still, a part of Dean didn't want the man to go walk out of his life. There was just something about him. Something that intrigued Dean, infused his ordinary mundane life with some much-needed colour and light.

And so Dean found himself calling last orders and pouring the last few drinks and starting the closing duties with the same rumpled tan coat sitting unmoving in his periphery.

Once the bar had been cleaned and the till cashed out, Dean found himself shaking the guy awake where he'd passed out on his folded arms.

"Hey, hey were closing. You gotta go man."

The stranger moaned but didn't move. Dean walked around the bar, coming up beside the man and shaking him harder.

"Dude!"

The man lifted his head slowly, his eyes barely open and his hair sticking up where it had been resting on his arms. He moaned, swaying in his seat. Dean had seen enough drunks in his time to know that there was no way this guy was getting home on his own.

"Can you tell me where you live?"

It was a long shot but Dean felt he should ask first.

The guy blinked slowly. He mumbled something but the words were so slurred together there was no way Dean would be able to decipher them.

"I'm just going to reach into your coat and look for ID so I know where to drop you okay?"

There was no answer so Dean slid his hand into the breast pocket of the rumpled overcoat, searching for the guy's wallet.

There wasn't one.

Dean idly wondered if the guy had been mugged or pickpocketed. He dove back in again and rifled through the pockets searching for keys but came up empty.

What the hell?

The guy couldn't be homeless, his clothes were too nice despite the overall rumpled state and he smelled clean.

Dean deliberated. It would be stupid to bring a wasted stranger into his home but there was just something about the guy.

"Alright buddy, you're coming with me but I swear if you puke in my car I will throw you out and leave you on the sidewalk."

He slung the guy's arm around his shoulder and hoisted him off the barstool, grabbing him around the torso as he failed to find footing.

"Come on work with me here." Dean said, trying to keep the guy upright as they made their way slowly towards the front of the tavern.

The man shuffled his feet, tripping every few steps and occasionally muttering slurred phrases that Dean had no hope of understanding. His head lolled on Dean's shoulder, his face pressed in to the crook of his neck. Dean felt a shiver of hot desire lance though him as he felt the stranger's hot breath on his collarbone. He swallowed and redoubled his efforts to get the guy to his car.

Only once they were outside did Dean remember that he had snagged the prime parking spot right outside the front door of the Roadhouse and sent up a prayer of thanks for small miracles. He managed to manhandle the guy to the passenger door of his baby and prop him up against the backseat door while he fished for his keys. As soon as Dean's grip left him the guy began to slide sideways, legs giving out beneath him.

"Woah, woah."

Dean made a grab for the boneless drunk, hoisting him back up against the car and holding him with one hand as the other unlocked the door.

Soon the guy was buckled in the front seat and they were on the road back to Dean's place, the stranger passed out against the passenger side window.

…

Once they were in Dean's apartment, and more specifically the spare room that was also Sam's whenever he came to visit, Dean let the guy drop onto the bed and, after a moment's deliberation, divested him of his trench coat and shoes. Then he retrieved the wastepaper basket and set it beside the bed, a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin went on the nightstand. And then he stood and stared and wondered what the hell he'd just done.

He'd brought a guy who had passed out drunk in his bar back to his apartment and given him his spare bed. Dean had friends he wouldn't do that much for and yet here he was staring down at the snoring stranger with the too-blue eyes and dark messy hair and the unexpectedly gruff voice that was probably a result of the whiskey he'd been throwing back all night.

It was late. Dean had had a long shift. He'd deal with…whatever this was in the morning.

And if his dreams prominently featured brooding blue eyes staring up at him from beneath long dark lashes then so be it.


	2. With a Little Help From My Friends

Dean was in the kitchen making coffee when he heard stirring coming from the open door of the spare room. The sound of retching followed soon after and Dean made his way in praying to God that the guy had aimed for the garbage can and not anything absorbent. Like the comforter or the carpet.

Luck was on his side and Dean moved to retrieve the water and painkillers, shaking out two and holding them out for the poor guy.

"Figured you'd need these after the night you had." He said.

The stranger finished sicking-up into the bin and raised his head, his blue eyes screwed up in confusion.

"Who are you?"

His voice came out low and hoarse and it did things to Dean.

Dean cleared his throat and shifted.

"Wait." He continued, tilting his head as his forehead creased in thought, "You're the bartender from last night." He glanced at his surroundings, "What the hell happened?"

Dean sighed and gestured with the two hands that held the water and aspirin. The guy took the hint and swallowed the pills, chasing them with the water and closing his eyes briefly in pleasure as he rehydrated himself.

Dean pulled the chair from the desk that sat in the corner of the room over and settled on it backwards, facing the bed.

"You uhh, you passed out." Dean explained, "and I couldn't find any ID or keys so…" he gestured with his hands figuring the rest could go without saying.

The guy frowned.

"So you brought a strange, drunk man to your place because that's something that happens?"

Dean huffed out a laugh and scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. It seemed even stranger when said out loud.

"Yeah, apparently…yeah."

The two men stared at each other for a moment before Dean felt the need to clarify.

"Just so you know, I'm not in the habit of bringing drunk strangers into my home it's just… well…I couldn't leave you on the street."

"Actually you could have. That's mostly where I was expecting to wake up when I walked into your bar last night. If I woke up at all that was." The last portion of his statement was said so softly that Dean nearly didn't catch it and figured it wasn't something the other guy had planned to say out loud much less for Dean to hear.

Dean cleared his throat and shrugged.

"Well, It wasn't too much trouble and you're here now so you're welcome to have a shower and I was about to whip up some pancakes…"

The blue eyes were examining him again.

"Thank you." He stood slowly, his movements tender before reaching down to retrieve the basin that he'd been sick into earlier.

"I…"

"It's alright." Dean said, reaching for it, "I'll take care of that."

The man's face reddened.

"No I should-"

"Really, it's okay." Dean interrupted, taking the bucket. "I'm just thankful your aim was good."

The two men stood in silence for a moment.

"I'm Dean by the way." Dean said, holding his hand out to shake, "Dean Winchester."

The stranger stared blinking at the hand for a moment before grasping it with his. He paused, locking blue eyes with green before speaking.

"Castiel." He said softly. He opened his mouth as though to elaborate but a pained look crossed his face and he closed it again before adding, "Just…Castiel."

Right.

Of course.

Because a guy Dean brought home, drunk out of his mind, couldn't have a normal name like James or Steve. No. Castiel. No last name just…Castiel.

Of course.

Dean grinned and nodded, shaking the hand in his before letting it go.

"Alright…Castiel. Uhh, enjoy your shower I guess."

It was lame and Dean knew it but Castiel smiled minutely.

"I will. Thank you…Dean."

…

Dean was just sliding the last pancake onto a plate when Castiel emerge from the bathroom, toweling his hair dry, dressed in the same rumpled suit and carrying the coat he had been wearing the night before.

He set the plate on the kitchen table along with butter, syrup, chocolate sauce and coffee.

"You think you can stomach some food or do you just want to stick to coffee?"

Castiel surveyed the fare as he pulled out a chair to sit down.

"I will see how I feel."

Once they were seated, Castiel looked at Dean.

"Thank you." He said sincerely.

Dean shrugged.

"It's just coffee and pancakes."

Castiel shook his head.

"Not for that. Well…not just for that." He fixed Dean with his gaze so that Dean couldn't look away.

"Thank you, for everything, Dean."

Dean swallowed, suddenly hot beneath Castiel's unwavering gaze.

"No problem." He said and it really hadn't been.

They ate in companionable silence, Castiel managing a few bites of food before giving up and sticking with just the coffee.

"So." Dean said, throwing down his napkin as he finished his breakfast, "What are you gonna do today?"

Castiel sat sipping his coffee and shrugged.

"I have no idea."

Dean thought back to Castiel's lack of address or ID or keys as well as his comments this morning.

"You don't have anywhere to go?"

Castiel shook his head.

"No, the motel I was staying in evicted me when I couldn't pay another night's rent. So I wandered until I got to the Roadhouse."

"Where you proceeded to drink away the rest of your money."

"Yes."

Dean deliberated before coming to a decision. He'd already barreled past the point of no return last night when he'd dragged the man back here and given him his spare bed, may as well go the whole hog.

"You know, we could use a dishwasher at the Roadhouse. I know it's not terribly glamorous or exciting work but…" Dean trailed off with a careless shrug.

Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"Are you offering me a job?"

Dean nodded.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Dean shrugged.

"Because you need one."

Castiel continued to stare at Dean in astonishment.

"But…you don't even know me. I could be a crazy person or a psycho or a con man or…"

"Are you any of those things?" Dean asked

"Well…no." Castiel answered lamely.

"Good. Then it's settled. You can start today and crash here until you find a place of your own."

"What?!"

"What?"

"You want me to stay here?"

Dean shrugged.

"Where else are you gonna go?"

Castiel opened his mouth but gave no answer.

"Good." Dean said, standing and clapping his new employee and roommate on the shoulder before clearing the table.

Castiel followed Dean into the kitchen.

"Why are you doing this?"

Dean looked up from where he was scraping off the plates into the garbage.

"Doing what?"

Castiel gestured vaguely.

"Giving me a job, letting me stay in your home. Bringing me here when you didn't even know me and I was so drunk I couldn't remember my own name?"

Dean straightened and set the plates in the sink before tuning and facing Castiel.

"Because I know what it's like to have nothing and no one." The two men stared at each other for an endless moment before Dean continued, "Now, why don't you start preparing for your new job by showing me how well you can wash these dishes." He said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, holding out the dish soap.

Castiel stood in shocked silence, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Yesterday the only plan he could come up with was to drink as much as he could in the hope that maybe that would be the end and this would all finally be over, and now here he was with a job, a place to live, and a friend.

For a moment, just a moment, Castiel forgot about everything else. Everything that had happened, the loss, the grief, all of it just faded away and he felt…not exactly happy, but secure. Like maybe he would be okay. And that was a hell of a lot better than he had felt in a very long time.

He fixed Dean with his piercing stare and said, emphatically, "Thank you Dean."

…

It didn't take much to convince Ellen to give Castiel a chance; she just gave him a long, hard stare before nodding.

"Alright." She said laconically.

"Really? You'll give me the job?"

Ellen shrugged.

"I trust Dean, and I'm a pretty good judge of character. You seem alright."

Castiel was introduced to Ellen's daughter Jo, and Ash, who worked at the Roadhouse in exchange for use of their backroom which doubled as his workshop. Despite first appearances, he seemed to be some kind of computer genius or at least that's what Jo said. He had apparently been at MIT before being kicked out.

The shift was long but not terribly busy, Sundays rarely were, and it gave Castiel a chance to get acquainted with the way the Roadhouse operated.

Once the last dish had been cleaned, Ellen gave Castiel a pat on the back and said, "Welcome to the Roadhouse kid."

"Really?" he asked incredulously.

"You did good today Cas. Guess Dean's instincts about you were pretty spot on."

"Of course they were." Dean said, stepping into the kitchen, "My instincts are sharp. Like a cheetah."

"Hey, Cheetah, Think fast." Jo said as she threw the towel she's been using to wipe down tables at him. He turned and it hit him in the face, bouncing off and falling lightly to the ground.

Afterwards Dean and Castiel sat out in the warm late September evening on the hood of the Impala, sharing an order of fries and winding down from the hectic atmosphere of the busy bar.

"So, how was today? I know it's not the most stimulating work but-"

"I don't mind. Really Dean. I am very grateful to you. For everything, and not just the job and food and bed. You have saved me in ways you cannot even comprehend and for that I thank you."

Dean nodded, not entirely comfortable with Castiel's open displays of emotion, but accepting all the same.

"No problem man. Really, I like the company. But you're sure you don't mind the work? It's not too boring."

Castiel shook his head.

"No it's…good. Calming. It's nice to feel useful and needed. To have a purpose." His gaze drifted, "And the routine of it. It keeps my mind focused and not preoccupied with…other thoughts." He refocused his gaze on Dean, "Besides, yesterday I had nothing except the clothes on my back. Now I have a job, a place to live, a friend." His lips twitched as though they wanted to smile though his eyes remained sad, "I am truly and forever indebted to you Dean Winchester."

"Tell you what. When you get your first paycheck, you can treat me to a burger and a slice or two of pie. Then we can call it squared. Sound good?"

Castiel nodded.

"I owe you much more than that but I suppose that is a reasonable place to start." Switching gears, Castiel asked, "So Dean, how did you start at the Roadhouse?"

"Well, Ellen's husband was in the same line of work as my dad.

"Oh, what did he do?"

Dean hesitated.

"He was a bounty hunter."

Castiel raised his eyebrows.

"Oh…that's not something you hear about all that often."

Dean laughed.

"Yeah, my childhood was pretty…unorthodox."

"How did he get into that?"

Dean sighed.

"Well, it all started when I was four and my brother Sam was six-months. Our house caught fire. My dad managed to get me and Sam out but…my mom didn't make it.

"Dean I am so sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no, it's okay." He smiled half-heartedly, "It was a long time ago. Anyway, turned out the fire was set. Arson. My dad became obsessed with tracking down the guy who did it and along the way he just started trying to take down everyone else who had escaped from the long arm of the law. I was raised in crappy motels and this baby here," he said, patting the black hood of the Impala on which they sat, "taking care of Sammy whenever dad went off on a job.

"That sounds unpleasant."

Dean shrugged.

"It was what it was. Can't change the past you know?"

A shadow passed over Castiel's face.

"Yeah, I know." He said, his tone sad. He didn't elaborate though and Dean got the feeling that the topic was off-limits until Castiel was ready to talk about it.

"Anyway, after he graduated high school, Sam wanted to go to college. He's a smart kid, got into Stanford on a full scholarship but dad said that family comes first and he had a duty to 'the family business' and that if he left he should stay gone. So Sam left and dad started to go off hunting on his own and I suddenly found myself alone for the first time in my entire life. At first it nice you know? Freedom and all that? But after a while…" Dean trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to sake away the painful memories, "Anyway, about four years after Sam left, dad disappeared and Sammy and I went on the road to try and find him. Eventually we caught up with him and turns out he'd found the SOB who'd killed our mom. Dad finally took him down. Unfortunately, dad went down with him."

"Did your brother manage to reconcile with your father before he died?" Castiel asked softly.

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, yeah he did."

"That at least is fortunate." Castiel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Thank you for telling me Dean I'm sorry for your loss."

Dean nodded again and cleared his throat, pushing back the burning sensation in the back of his eyes.

"Anyway, after dad died, Sam went back to school. Law school. I thought about continuing to do what my dad taught me but…I don't know, it wasn't the same on my own, without Sam or dad, and I was in a really bad place."

"What happened?" Castiel asked, sensing that there was a story there.

Dean fished his keychain out of his jacket pocket and handed them to Castiel by way of an answer. Castiel fingered the bronze AA chip that was attached.

"I know, a recovering alcoholic working in a bar."

"How long have you been sober?"

"Two and a half years. As long as I've been here. Ellen offered me a job and I settled down. Longest I've ever stayed in one place since I was four."

Castiel handed the keys back to Dean.

"Thank you for sharing that with me."

"No problem Cas."

Castiel frowned.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You called me Cas."

"Yeah, you know, like a nickname."

Castiel considered it for a moment before nodding.

"I like it." he said.

"So, Cas," Dean continued, "What about you? What got you to drinking at the Roadhouse like there was no tomorrow last night?"

Castiel looked down.

"I…I was, am, in a bad place too."

Dean nodded.

"You want to talk about it?"

Cas shook his head.

"Please, I'd rather not." His blue eyes were heavy with sadness as they rose to meet Dean's.

"Sure, of course." Dean answered.

"I feel like this is a new start. A rebirth. I feel like I need to let everything go, leave the past behind."

"Yeah I know the feeling."

Dean leaned back against the windscreen staring up into the inky blackness of the night sky. Beside him he felt Castiel do the same. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Castiel's, linking their fingers and together they watched the stars in comfortable silence.


	3. I Want To Hold Your Hand

As the days and weeks passed, Dean and Castiel fell into a comfortable routine. Waking up, sharing breakfast. Sometimes they would go out walking or driving, sometimes they would stay home and read or watch TV. In the evenings they worked and on their free nights they would watch crappy TV on Dean's old set and Castiel would frown at the irrational, and often irresponsible, choices made by the doctors on Dean's favourite show, Dr. Sexy MD.

Sometimes, Dean would walk into a room to find Castiel sitting in silence, a mournful look on his face as he stared off into the distance. Every now and then Dean would see silent tears trickling down his face, leaving behind tracks that glistened in the light. The first time it happened, Dean questioned Castiel about it but the other man didn't offer any explanation, just said it was 'nothing' and Dean dropped it. He wasn't an inquisitive person by nature and if Castiel wanted to keep his past to himself, that was fine by Dean.

A few weeks in, Castiel mentioned something about finding his own place but Dean wasn't having any of it. Dean liked having someone around and, so long as Cas didn't mind rooming with him, he was welcome to stay. Castiel insisted on at least contributing to the household: rent, utilities, food, and whatever else. Castiel was not a particularly material person by nature and he had come to Dean with virtually nothing, but slowly the apartment began acquiring a few new items here and there, a book or two, a few DVD's, a throw blanket for the couch when autumn fell and the temperature started to drop.

One night, nearly three weeks after Dean had taken Castiel home with him, they were sitting on Dean's threadbare but comfortable couch eating popcorn and watching some program that neither of them was paying particular attention to.

Instead, Dean was regaling Castiel with stories of him and Sam from when they were little.

"And then, Sam decided to jump off too dressed as Batman, which is stupid because Batman can't even fly, and sure enough he manages to break his arm!"

"Then what happened?" Castiel asked, fully engrossed in the story and enjoying the way Dean's eyes lit up when he spoke about his brother.

"I took him to the ER on my bike."

Castiel raised his eyebrows.

"And how old were you again?"

"Nine."

Castiel's brow furrowed.

"Where was your father?"

Dean shrugged.

"On a job."

"Who was looking after you?"

"I was looking after Sam."

Castiel stared at Dean.

"When you were nine?"

Dean sighed and leaned back against the sofa.

"My dad had some…interesting approaches to parenting." He started to explain.

"Dean." Castiel interrupted, "Leaving a nine year old child in charge of a five year old is tantamount to child abuse. As a parent, your children come first."

Dean let out a humorless laugh.

"Trust me, that's not the worst thing he ever did."

The conversation dropped off.

"Is that why you took me in?"

Dean glanced up into Castiel's blue-eyed gaze.

"What do you mean?"

Cas shifted in his seat, drawing his legs up and under him so he was sitting cross-legged facing Dean.

"You spent your whole life looking after your brother. Now that he's not here you have no one to take care of, no one to focus on, just yourself which is something you don't know how to do because you've never done it before. And then I come along and I'm basically a baby in a trench coat."

Dean laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way Castiel found surprisingly alluring.

"I am very glad that you did."

Dean looked up and once again found himself lost in Castiel's endless blue eyes, eyes that seemed to see past the sarcasm and bravado that Dean had built up around himself and pierce right into the depths of his soul.

Without any sort of conscious thought process, Dean found himself leaning forward and pressing his lips against Castiel's.

They were suspended for an eternal moment, like the apex of a rollercoaster, before Castiel responded and Dean was lost in a tempest of heat and hunger and desire.

And then it was gone because Castiel had pulled away, breathing heavily with a pained look in his eyes.

"I-I can't…I'm sorry."

He looked down, sliding back, away from Dean and towards the other end of the sofa, wrapping his arms around his knees and curling himself up into a ball.

It took Dean a few seconds to get his brain back online but when it did a jolt of guilt and embarrassment shot through him.

"Oh I…no I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…Oh god, I thought…"

He felt his cheeks warm as he trailed off.

"It's not that I didn't enjoy it." Cas said softly.

Dean looked up, catching Cas' eye and asked, "Then what is it?"

Cas looked down, fidgeting.

"I'm a mess Dean. I…I'm just really screwed up right now and I don't even know how to begin talking about it. I-"

A few tears escaped as he started trembling in his protective little ball.

Dean moved forward slowly, resting a hand lightly on Castiel's knee and stroking his thumb over the denim smoothly.

"Hey." He said softly, cupping Castiel's unshaven chin with his other hand and raised it up to look at him, "I don't care. I really don't. I don't care that you can't talk about your past, I don't care that I don't know where you're from or what happened to you or even what your last name is. What I care about is you and how when I'm with you I don't feel lonely or detached like I always do because you hit the nail on the head when you told me I need to take care of other people. 'Cause it's true, I don't do well on my own. You know what happened after Sammy left, what a mess I was."

Dean trailed off and moved his hand so he was grasping the back of Cas's head, his fingers tangling in the soft hair.

"If you're really not ready, that's fine. I'll respect that. But don't think for one second that I wouldn't want you because you're a little bit broken. I don't care. I like who you are now."

With a calloused thumb he brushed away the tears that were beginning to dry on Castiel's face.

"Now," Dean said with a deep inhale and a smile that was only partially fake, "how about I go make some more popcorn, hmm?"

While Dean was in the kitchen, Castiel sat and thought about what he had said. It was true that Castiel did feel something for his roommate. He had never had feelings for another man before but then again, he had only ever been with one other person and she…

Cas sniffed as more tears escaped his reddened eyes, he couldn't go there. Not now.

Dean was so kind and giving, could Castiel really open himself up to love again? It had been so painful before. The loss, the grief, the gnawing emptiness that swallowed everything. Everything except Dean.

Dean returned to the living room with the refilled bowl of popcorn, setting it down on the coffee table before slumping back into his seat at the other end of the sofa.

Castiel looked at him. He owed everything to this man who had taken him in and given without asking for anything in return. Who had respected his need for privacy and allowed Castiel to keep buried what he needed to keep buried.

And Castiel had to admit to himself that he did find Dean attractive.

A thought occurred to Castiel as he ruminated on what he knew of Dean's life. No parents, a brother away at school, he really only had Ellen and Jo and Ash to talk to and interact with on a daily basis. Dean had said himself that he didn't do well on his own and that being with Cas made him feel less isolated. Perhaps Dean needed Castiel as much as Castiel needed Dean. Perhaps this was the answer: two broken halves coming together to make some semblance of a whole. A new life, a new start. A chance to wipe the slate clean and start over; to move on from the past without forgetting what he was leaving behind.

Could he do that? Could he truly to let go?

He looked at Dean.

Yes. With this man, he could.

Dean looked up.

"What?" he asked when he noticed the other man looking intently at him.

Without answering, Castiel slid across the sofa, crowding into Dean's space and kissed him.

After a moment, they pulled apart.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked breathlessly.

Castiel nodded.

"Yes."

Dean smiled, his green eyes lighting up in a way that sent jolts of desire through Cas. He cupped his cheek and moved in, breathing against his lips.

"Awesome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!


	4. Hey Jude

Dean and Cas lay in bed, sleepy and sated, the thick veil of post orgasmic bliss settling over them as they sought comfort in each other's embrace.

Castiel shifted, turning on his side where his head was pillowed on Dean's chest and planted a few light kisses across the expanse of hairless skin and over the dark ink of the tattoo that sat over his heart.

He traced it idly with one finger, brushing over the five-pointed star before circling outwards over the sun that surrounded it.

"Tell me about this." He murmured, glancing up into Dean's heavy-lidded eyes.

Dean pulled Cas up so their faces were level on the pillow and fingered the tattoo.

"My dad was…he was a good person, and a good father, but my mom's death hit him hard and he never fully recovered. He was obsessive and angry and when he drank…" Dean let out a long, resigned breath, "Let's just say he wasn't fun to be around."

"Sam and I, we used to have this saying about not letting your demons in, not letting them possess you, take you over; not letting them destroy you. We saw enough of what that can do to you growing up in the life we did. In fact it was those words from Sammy's mouth that convinced me to get help to begin with. So, when I got my two-month chip, he and I got these together. Sam's always been a nerd for mythology and folklore and apparently this symbol is meant to ward off demonic possession. We both got them tattooed over our hearts as a reminder to not let your demons control you."

Castiel stared at him with his usual intense gaze before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the sigil and moving back up and planting another one on Dean's lips, soft and sweet.

"Thank you Dean." He said once they pulled away.

"For what?" he asked.

"For confiding something so personal about yourself to me. For sharing that part of yourself with me. It is a privilege."

Dean blushed and looked away.

"I'm not that special Cas."

Castiel reached out a hand and gently turned Dean's face back to look at him.

"Yes you are Dean." He spoke with such conviction that for a moment, Dean's heart skipped a beat. Castiel glanced away, looking like he was contemplating something, before turning back, "I have three older brothers." He whispered.

Dean raised his eyebrows but showed no other signs of shock at the unexpected personal information.

"Oh? That must have been fun." He said sardonically.

"It could be at times." Castiel answered, the sarcasm flying right over his head, "Although there were times where it felt like hell."

Dean nodded, having grown up with a brother of his own he could attest to that.

He reached up a hand to stroke Castiel's cheek.

"Thank you for telling me that."

Cas lay down, fitting his face into the crook of Dean's neck while Dean wrapped him tightly in his arms. Safe in his arms.

He wasn't sure why he had volunteered the information, nor why that particular fact about himself should be the one that sprung to mind first. He felt a familiar sense of mild anxiety fill him as he thought about the fact that he had blabbed about his past, the past that he had determined to keep buried. For a moment he toyed with the idea of perhaps telling Dean everything…immediately panic began to rise as his heart rate sped up and his breathing began to quicken. He scrapped the idea. He just wasn't ready. Perhaps one day he would be.

...

Dean was humming as he re-stocked the bar fridge, soft tones mingling with the clinking of glass as he lined up the beer bottles, swiveling them so all the labels were facing the same way, the way Ellen liked them.

"What is that you're humming?" Castiel asked from where he was polishing the freshly washed glasses and returning them to their designated spots at the bar.

"Hey Jude." Dean answered.

He looked up at Cas who had a blank expression on his face.

"Hey Jude." Dean said again, waiting for some kind of response. Anything. "You know? The Beatles."

"Oh." Cas nodded.

"You have heard the Beatles right?"

"I have heard of them but I have never listened to their music."

Dean stared at him with his mouth agape, lost for words that anyone could reach middle age without having heard the Beatles.

"You're fucking with me right?" Dean said, scrounging for any kind of explanation other than the obvious.

Castiel shook his head, a serious look on his face.

"What, did you grow up under a rock?"

Castiel shrugged.

"My family was very religious growing up. We didn't have very wide musical tastes outside of what we heard in church."

"And you never felt the need to do a little exploring yourself?"

Cas shrugged and shook his head.

Dean stared at him with a look that was half confusion and half horror.

"Right." he said, standing and abandoning his chore, moving over to the sound system and rifling through the pages of CD's in the case that sat next to the old stereo. He flipped through them until he found what he was looking for, put the disc in the player, skipped to the track he was looking for, and pressed play. He backed up, leaning against the inner bar beside Castiel as Paul McCartney's voice sounded from the speakers:

 _Hey Jude, don't make it bad_  
Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her into your heart  
Then you can start to make it better

"My mom used to sing this to me when I was little. It was her favourite song." He sounded wistful

 _Hey Jude, don't be afraid_  
You were made to go out and get her  
The minute you let her under your skin  
Then you begin to make it better

Castiel look up to see a sad, faraway look in Dean's eyes as he thought back to the parent he had lost so long ago.

Cas leaned against him, heads touching as he wrapped an arm around the other man. Dean smiled at the contact and brought his own arm up to rest over Cas' upper back, pulling him in closer as they continued to listen to the song.

 _And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain_  
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders  
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
By making his world a little colder  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah

 _Hey Jude, don't let me down_  
You have found her, now go and get her  
Remember to let her into your heart  
Then you can start to make it better

 _So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin_  
You're waiting for someone to perform with  
And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do  
The movement you need is on your shoulder  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah yeah

 _Hey Jude, don't make it bad_  
Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her under your skin  
Then you'll begin to make it  
Better better better better better better, oh

 _Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude_  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah, hey Jude

Dean stood once the song faded out and pressed pause on the machine before turning to Cas with a tentative look.

"Well? What did you think?"

Cas observed that Dean did not sound like his usual confident self. Instead he sounded nervous as he stood there chewing on his bottom lip while waiting for Castiel's answer.

Cas' mouth turned up in a small smile.

"I liked it." he proclaimed.

"Really?"

Castiel nodded and fixed him with his intense stare.

"I loved it." he said, not just talking about the song.

Dean grinned and turned around, pressing play and allowing the mixed CD to continue, while he moved to continue his task, determined that Cas would grow to love the Beatles as he should under Dean's patient tutoring.

Piano chords sounded from the speakers as McCartney began to sing again.

 _When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me_  
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be  
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me  
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be  
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be  
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be  


Dean looked up surreptitiously to see how Cas was enjoying the song but stood and moved to him when he saw that the other man was standing frozen against the bar, eyes fixed on the speakers and tears trickling in silent tracks down his cheeks.

"Cas! Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, moving forward and laying his hands on his shoulders.

Cas nodded.

"This song it's…beautiful" He trailed off, not knowing how to put into words how the song was affecting him.

Dean looked from the stereo to Cas's tearstained face before deciding that this probably had something to do with the past that Cas had yet to tell him about so he simply leaned back against the bar beside him and listened to the song, finding himself tearing up himself whenever the words  _Mother Mary_  were sung.

 _And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree_  
There will be an answer, let it be  
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see  
There will be an answer, let it be  
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah let it be  
There will be an answer, let it be  
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be

_Whisper words of wisdom, let it be  
_

_Yeah let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be  
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be_

And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me  
Shine until tomorrow, let it be  
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me  
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be  
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be  
There will be an answer, let it be  
Let it be, let it be, yeah let it be, yeah, let it be  
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

When the song finished, Cas asked Dean to play it again and they finished off the closing duties to the plaintive sound of Paul McCartney's voice and poignant lyrics.

 


	5. Ticket to Ride

"You're sure this is all right?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yes for the billionth time, I'm sure it's all right."

They were sitting in baggage claim at Kansas City Airport waiting for the American Airlines flight 257 from San Francisco.

It had been just over a month since Dean had kissed Castiel and Cas, after giving it much thought, had kissed him back. The two had slid seamlessly from being friends and roommates to something much more intimate and neither could quite believe how easy a transition it had been and how good it felt. A few days after Halloween, Dean had taken Cas to the graveyard where his mom was buried. He'd introduced his new boyfriend to her and told her all about him, making Castiel blush from the praise.

Castiel still had not been able to tell Dean anything else about his past. Dean had asked a few times but not in a pushy way and each time Castiel had wondered if he was ready, only to find his breath quickening and his throat closing up. Those times usually ended with Dean holding Cas and rubbing his back as the other man fought to keep his breathing steady and the tears at bay. Still, Dean did not push and Castiel found himself staring at times in wonder at how lucky he was to have found such a good man.

"You're sure I won't be imposing? We've only been together a short while."

Dean fixed Castiel with a glare.

"Of course not. Besides, with my dating history a month is like a year. It's about time you met everyone else. Besides, Sammy's dying to meet you. He's really curious since I haven't really been able to tell him much about you, don't worry, I told him personal questions were off the table. Anyway, he may want to do the whole protective brother thing."

Castiel blanched.

"Don't worry, he won't hurt you. He may try and intimidate you for fun, but he's totally harmless."

"Remind me again how tall he is?"

"6'4"."

Castiel nodded. "Right."

Just then a torrent of people came flooding through the doors that lead from the gates and Dean stood up, craning his head looking for his brother, not that he needed to, considering.

The plan was for Sam and his girlfriend Sarah to fly in and stay over at Dean and Cas' before driving up to Sioux Falls to spend Thanksgiving with Bobby and Jo and Ellen. Cas was worried that he would be intruding but Dean insisted.

"Hell, apart from Sam and I and Jo and Ellen, none of us are actually related, but we're still family. After all, as Bobby's so fond of saying, 'family don't end in blood'."

So here he was, standing with Dean as they looked for Sam and Sarah amongst the throngs of people.

"Oh! Hey, there he is! Sam! Hey Sammy!"

Castiel glanced at Dean, enjoying the way his green eyes lit up with joy at the sight of his brother, before looking where Dean was waving to see a brunette head, towering over everyone else with a beautiful woman, also brunette, at his side.

Dean took off in their direction and nearly mowed down his brother as he tackle hugged him, knocking the carry on out of his hands.

Sam laughed and wrapped his arms around his brother.

"Hey Dean, did you miss me?"

Dean clapped his brother on the back before pulling away.

"Not at all," he joked, ruffling Sam's hair, "Jesus, what the hell dude? You never heard of a barber?"

Sam slapped Dean's hand away and ran a hand through his admittedly fantastic looking hair.

"Shut up."

"Whatever bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean turned to Sam's companion.

"Hey Sarah." He said, moving in for a much gentler hug.

Sarah smiled, returning the embrace.

"Hello Dean, it's so nice to see you again."

"You too."

They pulled apart and Dean took a deep breath before swinging an arm around Castiel's shoulders and pulling him forward.

"Guys this is Castiel. Cas, this is my brother Sam and his lovely girlfriend Sarah."

Cas mustered up a polite smile and held his hand out to Sam.

"It's very nice to finally meet you. Dean talks about you all the time."

Sam nodded and shook the proffered hand.

"Yeah same here. Won't shut up about you every time he calls." He said with a smile.

Cas looked at Dean bashfully who answered with a shrug.

"And it's very nice to meet you too Sarah."

"You too Castiel, Sam's been very excited to meet you."

"Can you blame me? This is the guy who's kept Dean monogamous for over a month. Guy's gotta be some kind of angel."

Cas blushed.

"I assure you I'm not. Just named after one."

…

After a forty-five minute drive back to Lawrence during which time Dean blasted classic rock and he and Sam bickered like an old married couple about what constituted good music, Sam and Sarah unpacked in the once again empty spare room before the four of them made their way to the Roadhouse where Sam and Sarah greeted Ellen and Jo and the four of them huddled into one of the booths, Sam and Sarah on one side and Dean and Cas on the other.

They made idle chit-chat, catching up and talking to Jo when she came to take their orders. The Roadhouse menu wasn't extensive, mostly burgers, fries, and comfort food but Ellen's cooking was to die for

"So Castiel, how do you enjoy working here?" Sarah asked.

"It's good. I quite like Ellen and Jo and Ash. And Dean of course. I started out washing dishes but lately I've been helping more in the kitchen, prepping and whatnot. I've always been fond of cooking. I've also started balancing the books since I have some knowledge of accounting."

Sarah nodded, "That's great. What did you do before you came to Kansas?"

Castiel's voice died in his throat at the innocuous question. Sarah, having realized her mistake, brought a hand up to her mouth.

"Oh, shit I'm so sorry, Sam mentioned that you don't like talking about your past. I'm so sorry Castiel."

Cas shook his head as Dean rubbed calming circles on his back, clearly prepared for a panic attack, which Castiel had had on occasion.

"It's alright." He said in a weak voice, "I just…"

"No, it's really none of my business." Sarah said, "I sorry for bringing it up."

Castiel nodded.

"Umm," he said, "So how did you and Sam meet?"

"Oh," she smiled as the table let out a relieved breath, glad to be free of the awkward silence, "well, Sam and I met at an art auction at Stanford."

"Yeah," Sam said, joining in the story, "All the law students had been invited to this fancy auction slash meet and greet and Sarah was helping to organize it."

"My father owns an auction house in New York where I'm from so I volunteered. We got to talking and found out we had something in common: loss."

Sam nodded.

"Our dad had just died and I was still getting over my old girlfriend Jess's death and Sarah had lost her mom so…"

Sarah nodded, her smile sad as she took Sam's hand, looking into his eyes.

"What about you two, Sam never mentioned how you guys met."

Dean and Castiel shared a look.

"Well…" Dean smirked and Castiel buried his face in his hand, not relishing the rehashing of their rather embarrassing first meeting.

"So let me get this straight." Sam said once Dean had finished the story. "Some random guy passes out drunk in the bar you work at and your solution is to bring him home with you?"

"What? It was Cas."

"Yeah but you didn't know that at the time."

Dean rolled his eyes and threw his arm over Castiel's shoulders, pulling him in.

"And if I hadn't done it I would never have met this guy and I wouldn't be the happiest I've been in a long time so I choose to see it as a good decision."

He smiled at his brother before looking over at Castiel who was staring intently at Dean the way he was wont to do whenever he was reminded how lucky he was to have the man in his life.

Sam watched his brother looking at Castiel with peace and love in his eyes and decided that maybe Castiel wasn't all that bad. Still, the fact that Dean still didn't know anything about Castiel's past made him wary. Years of growing up with an obsessive father who had hammered home the mantra of 'trust no one' had made Sam wary when it came to the unknown.

Looking at the easy smile that graced his brother's face, Sam hoped to God he was wrong. But if his life had taught him anything, it was that good things didn't tent to happen to the Winchesters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter I know, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.
> 
> As always, reviews are love.


	6. Come Together

 The drive up to Bobby’s was largely uneventful, Castiel asked Sarah about her life, what had driven her to study art and later pursue a Masters in curatorship. She in turn told him about her mother and how she had been a fabulous painter and antique dealer.

 

“She always loved old things. She used to say that they had proven their worth by standing the test of time. After she died I felt so lost and alone. Going to Stanford was a way for me to continue living my life while still honoring her memory.”

 

Castiel nodded, pain shining out from his blue eyes.

 

“That’s wonderful Sarah.”

 

Castiel’s introduction to Bobby was very similar to Ellen’s. The retired bounty hunter shook his hand solidly and looked him in the eye before nodding, grunting, and handing him a beer.

 

Dean smiled and clapped him on the back so he assumed he’d passed some sort of test.

 

Ellen and Jo showed up not long after and soon the house was filled with conversation and the smell of turkey roasting.

 

Castiel stayed close to Dean, chatting first with Jo and then Sarah before excusing himself to get some air.

 

It was lovely being back in a home environment but it brought up sad memories too and he needed some time to clear his head.

 

Letting the door close softly behind him, Castiel wandered out into the labyrinth of cars, thinking about the last thanksgiving he had spent with family. How happy they all were. How blissful they were in their ignorance of what was coming.

 

He heard voices, Sam and Dean, moving toward him. He started to get up, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping when he heard his name.

 

“…Castiel anyway? Who is he Dean? Where’s he from? What’s he doing in Kansas? What’s his _last name_?”

 

“I don’t know!”

 

The voice paused for a beat.

 

“I don’t know. And you know something else? It doesn’t matter okay? What matters is that I’m happy. What matters is that I haven’t felt the need to go get drunk or sleep around or break something since he came into my life.”

 

Sam sighed.

 

“That’s great Dean, it really is and I’m happy for you, I am. But I’m also concerned. I just don’t trust the guy.”

 

“Yeah but I do. _I_ trust him. _Me_. You don’t know him like I know him. You haven’t had time to get to know him. And I know you want to look out for me but you gotta trust that I know what I’m doing.”

 

There was more silence.

 

“Yeah, I guess your right. I suppose if Bobby and Ellen are okay with him too…I’m probably just overreacting, feeling guilty for leaving you to go back to school. Again.”

 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Sometimes you gotta do things for-”

 

“You.” Sam finished for him, “Yeah, I remember.”

 

They paused.

 

“You really trust him?”

 

Dean laughed.

 

“Yeah, I do. It’s strange, I mean, you know me, I don’t trust anyone who isn’t here now and yet, this…stranger walks into my life and I just…couldn’t let him walk out.” Dean sighed. “I love him.”

 

“That’s great Dean really. I’m really happy for you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah now can we end this chick flick moment before one of us grows a uterus?”

 

“Fine, but I know you love them, like you luuuuuve Castiel.”

 

“Shut up bitch.”

 

“Whatever jerk.” There was a pause before Sam spoke again, “You coming in?”

 

“Nah, gonna sit out here for a bit longer. Maybe see if I can find where Cas went off to, make sure he’s all right.”

 

“What do you think happened to him?”

 

Dean sighed.

 

“I don’t know. Sometimes he gets this look in his eyes, like he’s remembering something. And when he does he looks so…sad. And it kills me because no matter how much I want to, I have no idea how to help him. So all I can do is love him and wait until he’s ready to tell me. And if he’s never ready…I guess loving him will have to be enough.”

 

There was more silence and then the sound of fabric rustling and Castiel assumed the two Winchesters were sharing a brotherly hug.

 

“I really am happy for you Dean.”

 

“Yeah, whatever.”

 

Castiel heard Sam huff out a laugh before heavy footsteps on the gravel of the junkyard signaled that the younger of the Winchesters had departed. He waited a few moments before emerging from his hiding place, seeing Dean leaning against one of the many cars that filled the yard.

 

Dean’s eyebrows rose as he caught sight of Castiel.

 

“Hey, there you are.” He said, smiling.

 

Cas looked bashful as he approached his boyfriend.

 

“I apologize, I overheard you and your brother talking. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I heard my name and well…”

 

Dean raised his eyebrows and shifted where he leant against the car, clearing his throat.

 

“Oh, you heard that huh?”

 

“Yes, Dean look, I’m sorry, I know it must be difficult to be in a relationship with someone you know so little about and honestly sometimes I want to tell you…everything but I just can’t I-”

 

“Hey, Hey!”

 

Dean cut off his panicked ramble, standing and grabbing him by the shoulders.

 

“If you heard what I just said to Sam then you heard me saying that I don’t care. I mean sure, I’d love to know about you, I want to know everything about you. But I also know that you’re not ready and that’s okay.”

 

With his hands still on Castiel’s shoulder, Dean’s face relaxed into a crooked smile, crow’s feet appearing in the corner of his eyes as they crinkled.

 

“You know how I was raised; like a soldier, a warrior. Trust doesn’t come easy to me but I don’t know…somehow I’ve trusted you since to moment I met you. I don’t know how or why, just that there seems to be this…bond between us.” Dean’s eyes were bright with affection as he looked down into Castiel’s perpetually sad ones. He swallowed, hands shaking as he raised them from shoulders to cheeks, threading his fingers through the soft, dark hair at the nape of Cas’s neck, “I love you Cas.”

 

The words came out on an exhale, soft and breathless and as easy as breathing but time stretched to infinity once they had escaped his lips because it was one thing to kiss Cas and cuddle him and tell his brother how he felt about his boyfriend, and quite another to say those words out loud to his face. Dean was not in the habit of bearing his soul; he preferred to keep things close, guarded. But Cas seemed to be the exception to all the rules.

 

Castiel stared up at him through cobalt irises, his face relaxing into an expression of tenderness.

 

“I love you too Dean.” He answered, tilting his head back and leaning up to press a soft kiss against the other man’s lips.

 

Dean smiled into it, relishing the rush of sensation that cascaded through him at the touch of those lips. He kept one hand tangled in Castiel’s hair while the other lowered to his waist, pulling him flush against Dean as the kiss moved from sweet to hungry.

 

Cas moaned at the contact, grabbing needy fistfuls of Dean’s jacket.

 

Dean traced a line down Cas’ scruffy jawline to the sweet spot under his ear. Cas’ breath caught in his throat as Dean bit and sucked at the sensitive skin of his neck.

 

A throat clearing brought them back to the present. They turned, still entwined in each other’s arms.

 

“Hate to interrupt your little make out session,” Jo teased, “but dinner’s almost ready so you should probably come inside and _freshen up._ ”

 

Dean nodded, still trying to catch his breath.

 

“Sure thing Jo we’ll uh, we’ll be in in a sec.”

 

Castiel had lowered his head to rest against Dean’s shoulder, trying to curtail the sensations running rampant through his body.

 

Jo smirked and turned back the way she had come.

 

“Oh, by the way?” She said, looking back over her shoulder, “That was super hot.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to Castiel’s messy black hair.

 

“Come on, the faster we get to the turkey the faster we get to the pumpkin pie Ellen made.”

 

With a smile, Dean gathered Castiel’s hand in his and they walked side-by-side back to the house.

 

Dinner was a loud, raucous affair with Sarah updating them on everything that was new in California and Sam telling embarrassing stories about Dean from their childhood for Cas’ benefit and everyone else’s (except Dean’s) enjoyment. And then Sam was glancing nervously at Sarah and clearing his throat for attention.

 

“So, we have some news.” He said, taking Sarah’s hand in his and smiling adoringly at her before turning around to look at the rest of the table. “Sarah and I are getting married.”

 

Jo shrieked and Ellen and Bobby congratulated the newly engaged couple before Dean barreled over to pull his kid brother into a bone-crushing hug.

 

“Congrats little brother.” He said, patting the gigantor’s cheek and smiling before moving over to hug his future sister-in-law.

 

Castiel approached the elated law student as he finished hugging Bobby and Jo and Ellen, and held out a hand to shake.

 

“Uh uh.” Sam said, shaking his head before pulling his brother’s partner into for a hug. Castiel was rigid and uncomfortable in his arms but thawed slightly and patted him back.

 

“Congratulations Sam, I wish you every happiness.”

 

“Thanks Castiel.” Sam answered, feeling like he would never be able to stop grinning like and idiot, “Listen,” he said, changing topics, “I just wanted to say, I’m glad Dean has you.”

 

Castiel blinked in surprise.

 

“I’ve always felt so guilty, leaving him to go off to school, first with my dad and then on his own. It’s hard, having grown up the way we did, to make decisions for yourself and not someone else, to be selfish. I’m glad he has you to take care of and to take care of him because god knows he has no idea how to do that.”

 

Castiel nodded and rested a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

 

“You’re welcome, Sam. Thank you for believing and trusting in me.”

 

Sam nodded and turned to go before looking back.

 

“Also, if you hurt him in any way, I’ll make sure you pay for it. Got it?” The threat was vague but spoken with such precision that Castiel, knowing what he did about the Winchesters’ childhood, was utterly convinced that Sam could kill and dispose of him without anyone ever finding out.

 

He nodded.

 

“I understand.” He said solemnly.

 

Sam smiled and clapped him on the back.

 

“Good.”

 

Later that night, laying in one of Bobby’s spare rooms, tangled up together, Cas whispered, “I’m thankful for you Dean.  


Dean smiled and nuzzled into the space where Cas’ shoulder met his neck, breathing in his scent.

 

“I’m thankful for you too Cas.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has read and followed and favourited and reviewed, thank you for giving me so much love!
> 
> Cas' secret is going to be revealed soon so just hang on!
> 
> To anyone who is following The Things We Hide, I apologize for the lack of update last week, in the last two months I have changed jobs and moved three times (once across the country) suffice it to say, I am a little overwhelmed and mentally exhausted and I know how I want it to end, I'm just having a little trouble getting there so bear with me!
> 
> Please review! Reviews give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside :)


	7. Blackbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honour of it being a holiday in my country, all you lovely readers get this update a day early.
> 
> Happy Canadian Thanksgiving!

Following Thanksgiving, things were good for about two weeks.

Dean and Cas continued to grow closer and, as Castiel became more involved in the business end of the roadhouse, Jo was beginning to consider going back to school the coming fall, even registering for some classes at the local Community College starting in the New Year. Sam called often from Stanford with Sarah constantly butting in to update the two men on how the wedding arrangements were coming along which Dean always pretended to be annoyed and exasperated by and which Cas always listened to with rapt attention; behaviour which Dean was never quite sure was genuine or not.

Then, one Thursday afternoon, when Dean and Cas were alone in the Roadhouse, restocking the bar before the dinner rush, the door opened, spilling light into the darkened pub and illuminating a figure in the doorway. He stepped forward. At first Dean couldn't make him out, backlit as he was against the light from outside, but as the door swung shut behind him, Dean caught a glance of honey coloured eyes and a serious, almost somber expression.

"Kitchen's not going to be open for another hour but you're welcome to have a drink." He informed the man who made his way straight over to where Dean stood behind the bar.

"Actually," the stranger said, "I'm here looking for my brother. I was wondering if you'd seen him?"

He held out a picture, which Dean took. It was one of those professional studio photos with the generic blue background and everyone posing awkwardly, all fake smiles. It featured a pretty redheaded woman, a man with striking blue eyes, and a young blond girl. The woman had her hand on the man's shoulder and the girl stood on his other side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her secure. Dean stared at the man.

The man who was the spitting image of Castiel.

"Can't say that I have." He answered, shrugging and handing the picture back to the stranger.

The man looked at Dean for a moment, sizing him up before sighing, his shoulders slumping minutely, looking forlornly down at the picture.

"Well if you do see him around could you give me a call we're all really worried abou-"

"Dean I can't find that case. Wher-"

The man cut off as Cas came back into the bar from the kitchen carrying a box of pretzels as he pushed the door open with his shoulder. He stopped short as he caught sight of the stranger, eyes wide and mouth agape. The sound of the pretzels hitting the ground echoed through the silent, empty bar.

"Jimmy." The man breathed, moving towards were Castiel stood frozen.

"Gabriel." He finally greeted.

'Gabriel' stopped in front of Cas, eyes skimming over him before pulling him in, hugging him tightly.

Cas patted the guy awkwardly, sending an apologetic glance at Dean.

Gabriel pulled back.

"God Jimmy, where have you been? We were so worried about you, how could you just up and leave like that? After everything that happened?"

Cas sighed before pulling the man through the kitchen doors and out of sight.

Dean stood frozen in the once again empty bar, his mind reeling.

_Gabriel._

_I'm looking for my brother._

_How could you just up and leave like that? After everything that happened?_

_Jimmy…_

Without conscious thought, Dean found himself moving towards the kitchen door. He stopped. To do what? Eavesdrop? Finally get answers to the burning questions about who Cas was? Where he had come from? What had happened to him?

No. He would not invade Cas' privacy.

Dean clenched his fists, desperate to hear what was being said behind that door. He could feel the want, the desire pumping though him. The unanswered questions about the man he loved demanding to be sated as ferociously as his thirst had demanded to be sated in his first few attempts at getting sober.

His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes. He had made it through that and he could make it through this. Cas would tell him. Eventually Cas would tell him.

About thirty minutes later, the door to the kitchen opened again and Gabriel emerged alone. He looked up at Dean where he was wiping down the same spot at bar that he had been at for the past half an hour.

The man moved around the other side of the bar, following the line of high-legged chairs down until he was face to face with Dean.

Green eyes met golden.

"You Dean?" he asked.

"Yeah." Dean answered, standing his ground. Despite the fact that the guy was half a foot shorter than him, he exuded power in a way that told Dean, despite his life of crime fighting, this Gabriel could do him some serious harm if he wanted to.

"You've been looking after my brother?"

Dean shrugged.

"You could say that."

"He said you saved him."

"Look," Dean said, holding up his hands, "all I did was give him a job and a place to stay."

"And a life."

Gabriel stared at him for a long minute, sizing him up before nodding.

Dean wondered if he'd passed some sort of test. Or failed.

"That man in there," Gabriel gestured to the door through which he and Castiel had disappeared, "Jimmy, or Castiel, or whatever he wants to call himself, he's been through more than you can imagine. Hell. If he's managed to find some kind of peace with you, great. Fantastic. He, more than anyone else, deserves at least that. But," a dangerous gleam lit in his light coloured eyes, burning with something that Dean was intimately familiar with: brotherly protection. "If you hurt him, if you do anything that causes him harm. Well, let's just say that I'm only one of Jimmy's three older brothers and believe you me when I tell you that I am a teddy bear compared to the other two."

Dean was proud of the fact that he managed to not wet himself once that particular speech was done. He had been privy to his share of macho posturing but that, that was real.

"Understood." He said in his most passive tone.

Suddenly, Gabriel's face relaxed into an easy smile.

"Good." He said jovially, producing a lollipop of all things from his inside pocket and divested it of its clear plastic wrapper before popping it into his mouth and turning to exit the roadhouse.

He reached the door and stopped, turning back.

"And Dean, thanks for taking care of my brother."

And with that he was gone.

Dean moved to door, locking it and flipping the sign from OPEN to CLOSED before turning towards the kitchen in search of Castiel hoping that he'd get some answers once and for all.

…

Dean found Cas out back, sitting on an overturned crate and staring off into the distance, his hands clasped, arms draped around his knees. His expression was impassible but his eyes were sad. Dean grabbed another crate and set it down beside him, plunking himself down.

"So, one of your brothers is named Gabriel and is, despite his height, surprisingly terrifying."

"He didn't threaten you did he?" Cas asked in a concerned tone.

Dean shook his head.

"Don't worry about me I can handle myself. Look, if you don't want to talk, that's fine; my position on this hasn't changed. But if you do…I'm here."

Castiel averted his gaze, squinting out at the barren brush that surrounded the back of the Roadhouse. Gabriel showing up so suddenly had stirred up everything that he had been desperately trying to keep a bay. But it had brought him something else too, a realization that, try as he might, he could not escape the past, he could not deny what had happened to him, what he had lost, no matter how difficult or painful it may be to face. He thought about the man sitting next to him, the man who had been his rock and anchor, who had kept him afloat all these months without even knowing why. Castiel couldn't believe how lucky he had been to find this man who had been  _so_  loving and  _so_  giving and  _so, so_  patient.

He deserved to know the truth. And for the first time, Castiel felt ready to give it to him.

"My name is James Castiel Novak, Jimmy for short, and I'm from Pontiac, Illinois.

 


	8. Let It Be

"My name is James Castiel Novak, Jimmy for short, and I'm from Pontiac, Illinois."

Dean's eyebrows raised in surprise and he felt his heart quicken and his palms begin to sweat as he was hit full force with the realization that he was about to learn Castiel's secret, the one that made him cry in his sleep and panic every time it was brought up. The one that made his eyes sad and his smile broken. Dean had long thought that Castiel would have a beautiful smile, but he had never been lucky enough to see it. And he was about to find out why.

"My parents were both theologians. My mother taught religious studies at the University of Chicago and my father was a deacon for our church. They were obsessed with angel lore so each of us received angelic middle names. My eldest brother is John Michael Novak, the second oldest is Nicholas Lucifer, and you've already met Richard Gabriel.

"My mother died when I was young and my father left not long after so I was mostly raised by my brothers. When I was fifteen, I met Amelia. We were high school sweethearts and we ended up getting married once we finished college. We had a daughter, Claire."

Castiel's voice broke as he spoke the name of his daughter and he paused to collect himself, staring wistfully at nothing in particular. After a few moments he cleared his throat, pursing his lips to stop them from shaking as he continued.

"On January eleventh, three men broke into our house. I tried to confront them, to get them to leave but they got the better of me and before I knew it, they had Amelia and Claire." Cas broke off, his hand coming up to cup his mouth as tears welled in his quickly reddening eyes. He took a breath, "I don't remember much after that, just waking up in the hospital. Alone."

Tears began streaming down his face and he wiped them away with a shaking hand. Dean had gone numb, his stomach cold and queasy. He didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say. So instead he reached out a hand and rested it on Cas' shoulder, a comforting weight. Cas's hand came up to rest on top of Dean's, accepting the show of support.

"The case took seven months to go to trial. Seven months of waking up every morning with the prospect of having to face another day without them. And sometimes, in that time between sleeping and waking, just for a moment, you don't remember. You don't remember what happened, you don't remember who you lost, and everything is fine. And then it hits you, the memory and it's like…it's like it's happened all over again; the pain, the loss, the grief. It all comes flooding back and you feel like you're drowning in it. And you honestly can't imagine a scenario in which you could ever be happy again. Seven months of pitying looks. Of people tiptoeing around you like you're a bomb set to go off. Spouting out comforting words and empty platitudes that mean nothing.

"Then the trial came and it was a disaster. One of the defendants was well connected and their legal team used every trick in the book. They got the charge down to involuntary manslaughter and had my testimony disputed."

"What? How?"

Castiel sniffed, wiping away the tears only to have more replace them. He sighed.

"I suffered minor brain damage from the incident and my cognitive function and mental state were called into question."

"What kind of brain damage?"

"For a few weeks I suffered from aphasia. It's the inability to properly comprehend or express language. I had trouble understanding people when they spoke to me, as though they were speaking a foreign language except that I knew it was English. I also had problems finding the correct words for things. I still have trouble sometimes interpreting subtleties in tone like sarcasm and the brain trauma coupled with damage to my neck and chest caused one of my vocal chords to become paralyzed which is why my voice sounds the way it does."

"Shit Cas." Dean breathed, bringing his hand up from the man's shoulder to his cheek, cupping it and stroking it. Castiel leaned into the touch.

"They each got seven years. Seven years for ruining my life. For killing my-"

His voice caught in his throat and he shook his head.

"I walked out of that courtroom and I couldn't go back. I couldn't be Jimmy Novak anymore. I couldn't be Claire's father or Amelia's widower. I couldn't face the looks, the pity and the sympathy that I got everywhere I went. So I got on a bus and I just…left. I wasn't going anywhere, I was just leaving. And I drifted, aimless and hopeless. And then, when I'd nearly run out of money, I walked into the closest bar I could find with no plans apart from forgetting and maybe, if I was very lucky, I might not have to wake up and go through it all again."

He looked up at Dean, red-rimmed eyes offsetting the blue.

"But then you came along, and you saved me Dean Winchester. Raised me from my perdition. You gave me…hope, distraction, a purpose. You gave me a chance to move on."

He sniffed, wiping away a few tears that were escaping at a rapid pace. Dean shifted to Cas' crate and he tugged gently, allowing Castiel's head to fall forward, resting against Dean's shoulder and wrapping his arms around the distraught man.

And the dam broke.

A primal, grief-ridden sob tore from his chest as he wept for his lost daughter and wife. Dean could feel the tears staining his checkered flannel shirt and he couldn't possibly care less because the big secret that Castiel had been carrying around with him since they had met was out in the open and it was more heartbreaking than he could ever have imagined. There were no words to sooth this pain, nothing he could say or do to alleviate the suffering of the man he was beginning to, had already, fallen in love with. So he just sat there on an overturned crate out behind the Roadhouse and held onto Castiel as tightly as he could while the man cried broken and heart wrenching sobs into his chest, mourning his pain and loss.

…

The knowledge of what had happened to Castiel's wife and child still sat heavy in his heart a few days later as he sat listening to the phone ring, waiting to be connected.

Gabriel had attempted to encourage Cas to go back home with him, just to visit, but Castiel had remained firm on his point and Gabriel had eventually gone graciously after shoving his new number into Cas' hand and eliciting a promise to call him.

Castiel himself had been understandably quiet for the past few days. Dean had asked if he wanted a few days off from work but Cas refused. He said work helped and indeed, he threw himself into his job, operating at nearly robotic levels, his words few and far between and his eyes closed off.

Not liking the feeling of being helpless in the face of his lover's pain and grief, Dean picked up to phone to make a call that he hoped would make a small dent in the mountain of injustice that surrounded the whole situation.

"Dean." Benny's low, southern drawl sounded down the line as the call connected. "How're you doin' brother?"

"I'm doing good Benny, how's life on the inside?"

Benny chuckled.

"Oh you know, doin' my time, just like you said. Makin' amends."

Benny had been one of Dean's last captures before he had quit the life. A sailor, he had killed his captain after the man had raped and murdered his love Andrea as punishment for Benny abandoning the crew for her. Following the murder, Benny had evaded capture for several years before finally being drawn out into the open by his old crew mates who were themselves looking for revenge on what they saw as the unfair killing of their leader. Finally, he had been taken down by Dean who had talked Benny into giving himself up and doing the time, promising him it would help him deal with his past mistakes and absolve him from the guilt that he still carried for not protecting Andrea and for killing the man he had followed faithfully for so much of his life. In the end, Benny allowed Dean to bring him in and the two had been good friends ever since.

"Why is it exactly that you're calling me?" Benny asked suspiciously, "You already called for Thanksgiving and it's too early for a Christmas greeting, so what is it?"

Dean paused.

"You know of an Ian Linton or a Theo Moores or a Paul Koeman?"

"Yeah, I know 'em, got transferred here 'bout three months back. Why?"

"They killed my friend's wife and daughter." He said flatly, "Got off easy too."

Benny didn't speak but Dean heard the unmistakable sound of the southerner's meaty fist connecting loudly with the wall. Dean waited while Benny worked to control his breathing. Dean understood, if he hadn't been busy comforting Cas when he'd heard the story, he'd have been throwing around some shit and punching holes in walls too.

"Those no good, piece of shit, cocksucking…"

Benny's list of colourful names for the murderers continued and contained a few that sounded like they might have been Cajun in origin.

"Took the words right out of my mouth Benny." Dean said once Benny was done spouting off every curse word in his vocabulary.

"What you want me to do Dean?" he asked in a tone that spoke of trouble to come later on.

"Just make life on the inside a little more eventful than they were hoping for."

He could practically hear Benny's grin down the line.

"I hear ya brother. Those three won't know what hit 'em. Literally."

"Thanks Benny."

"No worries. Say Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"This…friend of yours. He the same reason you were so deliriously happy when you called me for Thanksgiving?"

Dean shifted, crossing and uncrossing his arms and clearing his throat before answering.

"Yeah." He admitted.

There was silence over the phone and then Benny was back.

"I'll see those men pay for what they've done." Benny promised solemnly.

"Thanks man, I owe you one."

"No you don't." Benny countered, "You don't own me shit Dean, you just go be with your 'friend' I'll take care of things on my end."

There was a click and a dial tone and Dean hung up the phone. It didn't fix anything, having Benny exact some righteous revenge on the men who had ruined Cas' life, but it did lift the burden a little, making it easier to bear.


	9. Here Comes the Sun

“So…do you want to let everyone know about…you know?” Dean shifted awkwardly as he voiced the unspoken question between them.

 

It was Christmas Eve and Dean and Cas were on their way to Bobby’s to join Sam, Sarah, Jo, and Ellen.

 

Gabriel had called to invite Cas back to Illinois for Christmas but he had refused, not yet ready to face his family and go back to his old life. So instead he accepted Dean’s invitation to join him and his patchwork family for the holiday, with Dean assuring him that if things got bad and he needed to leave, they would leave. No questions asked. Castiel had felt his heart soar when Dean had said that. To think that he was lucky enough to find a man so caring, so giving, so selfless that he would be willing to cut short his holiday celebrations with his family for Castiel’s sake. Cas determined that he would stick this out, no matter how painful it may become, because Dean had damn well earned that.

 

Cas shifted in his seat at the question.

 

“Can you tell them? Without me?”

 

Dean took his eyes off the road momentarily to glance over at his boyfriend.

 

“You sure?”

 

Castiel fixed him with his usual somber gaze.

 

“Yes.” He confirmed, “Just so long as I’m not around for it.” He turned his head to stare out the window at the passing scenery, ending the conversation.

 

Dean turned his eyes back to the road.

 

…

 

_Eleven months ago_

 

The worst thing was that everyone was being really _nice_. Aunts and uncles and cousins had flocked to lend ‘emotional support’, to help him through this ‘trying time’, and it was enough to make him want to scream.

 

He had moved into John’s house. The doctors had suggested it because he still had balance issues and lapses in awareness. _Petit mals_ they were called, little seizures as his brain attempted to rewire itself after the damage it had suffered. Jimmy hadn’t argued. The idea of going back to the place where Amelia and Claire…he already saw it every night in his dreams, being in the same space, seeing it all again, he couldn’t do it.

 

The house was put up for sale. Nick dealt with all that; one of the few helpful gestures that he actually appreciated.

 

The problem was really the _niceness_. John, Nick, and Gabe were not nice. They had never been nice. They were stereotypical older brothers who showed their love through loud arguments and morally ambiguous pranks. They weren’t nice. They didn’t speak in soft tones and ask him fifty times a day how he was doing or whether they could do anything for him or whether or not he needed anything.

 

What he really needed was for everything to go back to the way it was, this forced kindness only emphasized that fact that everything was different now.

 

The first few days had been the hardest. When he still couldn’t quite accept what had happened and no one knew how to act around him and all anyone did was ask him questions that he couldn’t answer because his brain kept mixing up the words and the frustration grew and grew until Nick asked if he needed anything _again_ and his precious hold on the last of his temper had snapped.

 

“I NEED YOU ALL TO LEAVE ME—”

 

His brain stalled. He knew the word. It was a simple word. Five letters that’s all. Just five little letters. A simple English word. To be without company. Solo. Unaccompanied. But the word would not come. Like a handful of water it slipped away and he let out a scream that was equal parts anger, frustration, and grief.

 

And that was when it hit. The truth of it. The real, visceral realization that they were dead. His girls were gone. For good. He would never again fall asleep with Amelia in his arms and wake up to the sight of her relaxed in sleep on the pillow beside his. He would never again help Claire with her homework or have her run to his arms when he came home from work, her smile radiant as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. She would never have the chance to grow up. Go to college, fall in love, have adventures, start a family of her own.

 

_She didn’t deserve to die. Neither of them deserved to die._

_Why did you take them away?_

 

He felt Michael’s strong arms wrap tightly around him and for the first time in his entire life, he felt totally and completely alone.

 

…

 

When they arrived at Bobby’s Castiel gathered their luggage and, after greeting everyone warmly, sent Dean a significant glance before disappearing upstairs to unpack.

 

Dean made his own greetings and ushered everyone into the living room. Sam and Sarah shared a glance before looking over to the stairs up which Cas had disappeared.

 

“This have something to do with the way that boy’s been acting the past few weeks?” Ellen asked, taking a seat on the couch next to Jo, Sarah, and Sam, all four of them squishing in to fit.

 

Dean sat and nodded.

 

“Cas told me about what happened to him and he wanted me to let you guys know.”

 

Sam shifted in his seat.

 

“Should we wait for Castiel?”

 

Dean shook his head.

 

“He didn’t want to hear it.”

 

Bobby settled in his seat, sitting back and crossed his arms, Sam and Sarah grasped hands, and Ellen threw an arm around Jo, everyone sensing that the story they were about to hear would not be a happy one.

 

“Nearly a year ago, Cas’s wife and daughter were killed. Violently. Right in front of him.”

 

Sarah gasped, bringing a hand up to her mouth and squeezing Sam’s with the other. Sam brought up a hand to stroke her back and looked like he might be sick. Bobby rubbed a hand over his face and shifted back in his chair while Jo looked like she might burst into tears and Ellen’s face hardened. She’d grown quite the protective streak for the man over the past few months.

 

“Anyway, he wanted me to let you guys know.” Dean shifted forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, “Look, we’ve all lost people. We know what it’s like, the pain, the emptiness. And the pity. I think it goes without saying that he’d rather not have to deal with that this weekend.”

 

The group nodded solemnly before Dean slapped his thighs and stood from his chair.

 

“Well, I’m going to go check on him.” he said, gesturing upstairs and turning in that direction. Bobby got up to follow him out into the hall, stopping him by the foot of the stairs.

 

“Listen, I invited the sheriff, Jody Mills over for later.”

 

Dean nodded, he remembered the sheriff fondly. He also remembered how she’d lost her young son and husband a few years back.

 

“She might be good for Cas to talk to. She knows what he’s going through.”

 

Dean nodded again.

 

“Thanks Bobby.” He said, clapping the gruff older man on the shoulder.

 

Bobby nodded and disappeared back into the living room to be replaced by Sam with a somber expression on his normally boyish face.

 

“Hey.” He said softly.

 

Dean nodded.

 

“Hey.” He answered back.

 

Sam ducked his head and scratched at the back of his neck.

 

“So he told you huh?”

 

Dean sighed and nodded.

 

“Yeah. One of his brothers tracked him down. The truth kind of came out.”

 

Sam nodded.

 

“Shit man.” He murmured.

 

Dean let out a humorless laugh.

 

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

 

“How’s he doing?”

 

Dean shrugged.

 

“He’s been quiet, withdrawn, depressed.”

 

Sam nodded.

 

“And how’re you dealing?”

 

Dean looked up into his brother’s hazel eyes.

 

“Honestly,” he said, “I really just want a stiff drink.”

 

Sam’s forehead creased in worry.

 

“Dean, if you—”

 

Dean shook his head and held up his hand.

 

“Don’t worry about me.” He assured, “I’m not about to fall off the wagon. Not while Cas needs me.”

 

Sam stared hard before nodding.

 

“Alright, I trust you. Just…if you feel like you’re about to do something stupid, please call me. Anytime.”

 

“Day or night.” Dean finished, “Yeah I know. Thanks.”

 

Sam launched himself at Dean and the older brother laughed and clapped him on the back.

 

“Merry Christmas Dean.”

 

“Merry Christmas Sam.”

 

…

 

Seven years.

 

Seven years for the murder of an innocent mother and her child.

 

 _Seven Years_.

 

The sentence reverberated in his head and he sat, transfixed as the courtroom began to empty.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked round to see Gabriel with a mournful look, so out of place on his normally mischievous face, gesturing for him to stand and follow.

 

“Come on Jimmy.” He said softly, his words barely penetrating the cloud of grief and disbelief that surrounded him.

 

“You go.” He heard himself say, “I’ll be right behind you.”

 

Gabriel hesitated.

 

“Jimmy—”

 

“I’d like to have a moment alone please.”

 

He looked away. And did not look back to see whether or not Gabe had complied to his wishes.

 

He was numb.

 

He’d seen two of the defendants bump fists under the table when the sentence was passed. It made him sick and angry and so, so tired.

 

He was tired of the grief.

 

He was tired of the pity.

 

He was tired of this town when everyone knew him and so everyone knew what had happened to him and they all _looked_ at him like he was one second away from breaking apart into a million pieced.

 

“Excuse me sir.”

 

Jimmy looked around. A security guard was standing above him. He needed to vacate the room. He stood and moved wraith-like, as though in a dream through the marble corridors of the county courthouse and out into the warm August sun. The sky was blue and the sun was shining. The trees were green. He could hear birds singing and children playing. And he felt so detached from it all. As though his heart had had enough of feeling and shut off.

 

He thought about going back to John’s; of facing the looks from his relatives and found he couldn’t even stand the thought of it. HE could feel the loss like a film on his skin in this town and he feared that if he stayed there he would never be free of it.

 

He descended the wide, stone steps and walked to the bud stop, his tan coat flapping in the wind. It was too hot for summer to be wearing an overcoat as well as a suit but he couldn’t seem to feel the heat anyway so it didn’t really matter. A lot of things had ceased to matter recently. A bus had pulled up to the curb, its doors open, waiting for patrons. He pulled out some coins and took a seat. He had no destination in mind. No reason. No purpose.

 

Just the aim of getting lost without the hope of ever being found again.

 

…

 

Jody showed up just before dinner and hellos were shared and introductions made before everyone went their separate ways, Sarah and Bobby and Ellen back to the kitchen, and Sam, Dean, and Jo into the living room where Sam was insisting on watching It’s a Wonderful Life, disgusted that Dean had never seen it. Castiel eventually escaped out to the porch where he wrapped his hands around his steaming mug of mulled apple cider, watching the peaceful fall of the snow and avoiding the glances he got despite everyone being very respectful. It was easier somehow hear. Perhaps it was time or perhaps it was the knowledge that they all understood deep down what he had gone through.

 

He was leaning against one of the posts that flanked the staircase, staring out at nothing in particular when he heard the screen door shut behind him and he turned to see the sheriff with her own mug step out into the brisk winter air.

 

“It was getting a bit loud in there.” She said by way of explanation, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

 

Castiel shook his head.

 

“No not at all.” He answered.

 

She stepped forward, leaning against the post opposite his and regarded him.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Cas looked up.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Did you lose someone? Someone close to you?”

 

Castiel started.

 

“How did you know? Did Dean?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“You got the look. You go through something like that, it leaves you with scars. It also leaves you with the ability to see them in others.”

 

Castiel looked up at her words and saw, behind her placid expression and kind eyes, soul deep pain that he recognized from seeing it staring back at him in the mirror every morning.

 

“Who did you lose?” She asked.

 

“My wife and daughter.” He said softly, “Last January.”

 

“I’m so sorry.” Her tone was sympathetic but there was something in it that told Castiel that she wasn’t just saying it, she truly meant it.

 

“Thank you.” He answered, “How about you?”

 

She sighed.

 

“My husband and son, ‘bout two years ago now.”

 

“May I ask how they passed?”

 

“My son, Owen, got sick. Couple of weeks later he was gone. Then Sean started showing symptoms.” She paused and let out a humorless laugh as a few tears escaped her eyes. She wiped them away and sniffed, shrugging, “Never gets any easier, telling that story, no matter how bare bones I try to make it.”

 

Cas nodded and moved forward, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry.” He said softly and she nodded.

 

“Thanks.”

 

They stood in silence for a moment before Castiel spoke up.

 

“How have you dealt with it?” he asked.

 

She sighed and shook her head.

 

“Honestly, most of the time I feel like I haven’t. But umm, work mostly, trying to stop other peoples’ children and spouses from getting hurt or killed. That and religion.”

 

Cas hummed.

 

“I lost my faith when Amelia and Claire…we were very devout. Now the whole idea of God…that he would allow such pain and suffering…” he trailed off and shook his head, “That and every time I step into a church I am reminded of them. My girls.” His throat closed up and his words came out choked.

 

Jody pulled him in, rubbing slow, comforting circles into his back as he fought to get his breathing under control.

 

“It sucks.” She said, “And it doesn’t get better. It doesn’t heal and it doesn’t go away.” They pulled apart and Castiel stared down into her sad brown eyes, “You just learn to live with the pain, you learn to manage it. You find ways to make it bearable. It’s like losing a limb. You find new ways to do all the things you used to do but the reminder is always there. Of what you lost, of what’s missing.”

 

Castiel considered he words.

 

“Thank you.” He said, “It’s refreshing to hear something other than ‘It’s going to be fine’ said by people who can’t possibly understand what you’re going through.”

 

She nodded and smiled.

 

“I know.”

 

Cas nodded.

 

“Sometimes.” He shifted to lean against the bannister, perching on it and looking out at the sea of junkers that littered the lot, “Sometimes I’m worried that I’m moving too fast. I’ve been with Dean over two months now and yet it hasn’t even been a year since I lost my wife and child.” He looked up at her with concerned blue eyes, “Does that make me a bad person? Am I forgetting about them too quickly? Have I moved on too quickly?”

 

Jody sighed and shifted her position, crossing one ankle over the other.

 

“Everyone’s grief takes a different path. It takes longer for some than others. Doesn’t make you wrong or bad. You just gotta do what you gotta do. What feels right.”

 

Castiel nodded, staring hypnotically into his mug.

 

“Does Dean make you happy?” She asked.

 

Cas looked up and nodded without delay, “Yes. Sometimes I worry that somehow I’m dishonoring their memory by allowing myself the joy I feel when I am with him.”

 

She nodded knowingly.

 

“Yeah. I remember the first time I laughed after Owen and Sean. Felt like I was spitting on their graves. But don’t you think they’d want you to be happy?”

 

Castiel nodded again.

 

“I suppose you’re right. I just worry it’s too soon.”

 

“If it feels right then it’s not too soon.” She said softly.

 

He looked up at her, a soft look in his eyes.

 

The screen door opened and Dean stepped out.

 

“Sheriff.” He greeted before moving to Cas and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, how’s it going out here?”

 

Castiel looked up at him and felt his heart warm. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe most people didn’t get over their spouse this fast. But he didn’t feel as though he had _gotten over_ anything. The part of himself that had been Jimmy Novak, that had married and loved Amelia Novak, still mourned her death, still cried for her and felt the ache of loneliness and separation and loss. But the part of him that was Castiel, that had woken, hung-over in Dean’s apartment and worked at the Roadhouse and had taken the leap and kissed Dean that night two months ago on the couch, didn’t care. Because he loved Dean, thanked God for Dean, found safety and comfort in his embrace and strength to go on in his sparkling green eyes.

 

Jimmy Novak had died that night in the Roadhouse. Drowned in grief and whiskey and loss.

 

But Castiel had lived.

 

He looked up at Dean and felt, for the first time in nearly a year, his mouth relaxing into a smile. It was small and tempered by the sadness still present in his eyes, but it was something.

 

“It’s going good.” He answered softly.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. All You Need is Love

Castiel watched as Sam and Sarah finished their first dance as a married couple, applauding as the music ended and Sam dipped her, a chorus of ‘awws’ breaking out, before pulling her up and planting a kiss on her lips, the two of them beaming as they ought to be on their big day. A memory of Amelia on their wedding day danced behind his eyes, the way her red hear had stood out against the white of her dress, how widely she had smiled, how his heart had skipped a beat when he’d first seen her walk down the aisle of the church they had grown up in together.

 

He sighed and pushed the feeling down and away.

 

He would not cry today.

 

It had been nearly a year, nearly a year since Dean had ridden into his life and saved it. Castiel looked over to the man who sat next to him and was currently grinning and applauding his little brother on his big day. It had been an eventful year, not only with meeting Dean and somehow carving out a space in his life where he could feel marginally happy without also feeling overrun with guilt and grief.

 

On the anniversary of Claire and Amelia’s deaths, Castiel and Dean had driven up to Pontiac. Cas had taken him all over the town, driving past his old house, Claire’s school, the office building where he had worked, and finally, the church he had attended. Dean had parked and Castiel had stared up at the massive stone building silently while Dean watched him.

 

“Do you want to go in?”

 

Cas was tempted to say no to spare himself the pain he knew entering that building would bring, but instead he had steeled his nerves and nodded, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door and stepping out of the car.

 

The first thing that hit him when he stepped through the large wooden doors was the smell. Musty books and incense flowed in through his nose and he was reminded of old times, happier times, when he had been secure in his faith, unyielding. Sure that no matter what came to pass; his faith would protect him, that God wouldn’t forsake him.

 

How naïve he had been.

 

Their steps echoed in the vast, cavernous space as they moved slowly down the center aisle, the grandeur of the building demanding reverence from its inhabitants despite the fact that neither of the two men had much in the way of belief.

 

Cas and Dean took a seat, Cas grasping Dean’s hand as he closed his eyes.

 

They could hear a woman a few rows in front of them praying for someone named Mike before standing and moving to exit the church.

 

Cas stopped her.

 

“Mike is your husband?” he asked

 

She nodded, “Yes, he’s very sick.”

 

Castiel nodded sympathetically, “Yes, life is so…fragile. I only learned that recently.”

 

“I guess that’s why we pray.” She said, “When you get dealt such a bad hand sometimes, you need something stronger than yourself.”

 

Castiel looked wistful.

 

“It’s a wonderful idea, but…”

 

“What?” she asked kindly as he trailed off, his gaze wandering to the stained glass angels that adorned the windows of the cathedral.

 

“What if no one is listening? What if all your praying is in vain? What if there’s actually nothing?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“You’re missing the point of faith.” She said with conviction, “It doesn’t matter what may or may not be out there. What matters is that you believe in it. That you make it true. And then let that truth help you in whatever way you need it to.” She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder before departing.

 

Dean and Cas sat in the church for a long time while Castiel contemplated the woman’s words and his own shattered devotion.

 

…

 

“Congratulations bro!” Dean said with a smile in his voice and he hugged Sam, thumping him on the back and hanging on just a little longer than normal before moving over to Sarah and complementing her on her dress. The wedding was being held in a beautiful old mansion in New York where Sarah’s family was from and most of the guests were there for the bride. Only Dean, Cas, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Ash and a few of Sam’s friends from Stanford were there for him. Still, the important people were there.

 

Castiel stepped forward and Sam pulled him in, wrapping his arms around the man.

 

“Congratulations Sam.”

 

“Thanks Cas.”

 

He moved over and shared a hug with Sarah.

 

“Congratulations Mrs. Winchester, you look lovely in your dress.”

 

Sarah smiled.

 

“Thank you so much Castiel. Mrs. Winchester!” She beamed up at Sam as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, “I like the sound of that.”

 

Dean threw his arm around Cas.

 

“Oh!” Sam shouted, suddenly remembering something, “We have an announcement.”

 

“Oh my God you’re not pregnant are you?” Dean asked, looking at Sarah.

 

She chuckled and shook her head.

 

“No, I’m not pregnant.” She assured Dean.

 

“Oh, okay. Not that you look pregnant.” He floundered, “You look gorgeous. Not that you can’t look gorgeous when you’re pregnant, I hear there’s a glow…”

 

Castiel raised a finger and pressed it to Dean’s lips before he could dig himself in any deeper while Sam and Sarah shook with silent laughter.

 

“No.” Sam said, when he could finally speak again. “I uh, got a job offer and I took it.”

 

Dean’s face broke into a smile.

 

“Congrats bro.” he said, clapping Sam on the shoulder with his free hand, “You’re gonna be a proper lawyer. Where is this law firm? San Francisco? Or are you moving back here to be near Sarah’s family?”

 

“Neither.” Sam said enigmatically, “It’s in Kansas City. And, since the commute isn’t too bad, Sarah and I put an offer in on a house in Lawrence. I’m coming home Dean.”

 

Castiel turned and noticed the muscles of Dean’s jaw working to try and hold in the tears that were welling in his brilliant green eyes. He stood still and silent for a moment as he took in the fact that _Sam_ was coming _home_.

 

Then he leapt forward, tackling Sam in a hug and Sam laughed while Sarah grabbed Castiel’s arm and leant her head on his shoulder.

 

“You know, growing up I always wanted a big brother, now I have two!”

 

…

 

They had gone to the graveyard and laid flowers, Cas taking Dean’s hand in his.

 

“Amelia, Claire. You know I’ll always miss you and love you with all my heart. You will always be my girls. And I know that you would want me to be happy. Well, this is Dean. And he makes me happy. Very happy. Happier than I thought possible after loosing you both.” His words became clipped as his throat choked up and tears shone in his eyes. He sank down to his knees on the snow-covered ground and stretched out a hand to trace the inscriptions on the shared gravestone.

 

 

 

_  
_

_Amelia Novak_

_Loving Wife and Mother_

 

_Claire Novak_

_Our little angel_

_  
_

_Always in our hearts_

 

“I miss you guys so much and I will always love you.”

 

Dean held Cas as he wept, not caring that the snow was seeping in through his jeans and freezing his knees, just that he was there for the beautiful man he held in his arms and always would be.

 

…

 

Meeting Castiel’s three older brothers had been interesting, and by interesting, Dean meant fucking terrifying.

 

John was tall and silent, his hair the same dark brown as Castiel’s and his eyes serious as he took in Dean in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of his father. His handshake had nearly broken Dean’s hand with its strength.

 

Nick‘s hair was a lighter brown, almost blonde, that was closer to Gabriel’s colour and, though his manner was more relaxed than Michael’s, he was still intimidating as hell in a much colder, more unpredictable way.

 

Gabriel was just as snarky and terrifying as Dean had remembered and when they all stared at him silently after Castiel had excused himself to go to the bathroom, Dean seriously doubted that he would come out well in a fight if even one of them made good on their promise to hurt him if he hurt Cas, let alone if all three of them reigned down their wrath on him.

 

Nick had certainly lived up to his middle name when he threatened to disembowel him if he even _suspected_ Castiel wasn’t happy with Dean.

 

“I hope they didn’t threaten you too much.” Cas had said once they were safe in the Impala.

 

Dean shook his head.

 

“Of course not.” He answered, and he was pleased that his voice only shook a _little_.

 

…

 

Once they were on the road back to Kansas, Castiel picked up the battered box of tapes, rifling through them until he found what he was looking for. It was a testament to how much Dean loved Cas that he didn’t even complain about the ‘driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole’ rule being broken, although if he were to be perfectly honest, that rule really only applied when the shotgun was Sam.

 

Castiel slipped the tape into the deck and soft, finger-picked guitar sounded through the car as George Harrison’s soft voice began to sing:

 

_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_   
_And I say it's all right_   
  
_Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter_   
_Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here_   
  
_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_   
_And I say it's all right_   
  
_Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces_   
_Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here_   
  
_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_   
_And I say it's all right_

Dean drove silently while Cas moved in close, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder and crying softly. Dean stretched his arm around the man, resting over the back of the bench seat, Cas always cried when he listened to the Beatles, having found the music to be cathartic.

_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_   
_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_   
_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_   
_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_   
_Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_

_Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting_   
_Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear_   
  
_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_   
_And I say it's all right_   
_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_   
_It's all right, it's all right_

 

…

 

Dean returned from the bandstand and held his hand out to Castiel.

 

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

 

Castiel looked unsure.

 

“I don’t really dance Dean.”

 

“Come on,” Dean said with an easy smile, “It’s a slow song, you just have to sway besides—”

 

Before he could finish, the singer came over the mic.

 

“So this song is dedicated to Castiel from Dean.”

 

Dean shrugged.

 

“You’re not gonna leave me hanging after that now are you?”

 

Cas shook head and stood, slipping his hand into Dean’s and followed him out onto the dance floor, moving in close and resting one hand on his shoulder, the other clasped in Dean’s as the horn section started off _La Marseillaise_ before everyone else came in with:

_Love, love, love_   
_Love, love, love_   
_Love, love, love_   
  
_There's nothing you can do that can't be done_   
_Nothing you can sing that can't be sung_   
_Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game_   
_It's easy_   
  
_Nothing you can make that can't be made_   
_No one you can save that can't be saved_   
_Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time_   
_It's easy_   
  
_All you need is love_   
_All you need is love_   
_All you need is love, love_   
_Love is all you need_

“By the way, this is my way of saying I love you.” Dean said softly into his ear as they danced cheek to cheek. He felt something wet against his face and knew that Cas was crying.

 

Dean pulled back to make sure that Cas was alright, he’d hate to have cause a breakdown in such a public and joyous forum. Sure enough there were tears falling from his sparkling eyes but there was also a brilliant smile on his face.

 

Dean looked in awe at the sight, a smile of his own blossoming.

 

“Well what do you know?” he said, “I was right.”

 

“Right about what?” Cas asked curiously.

 

“Your smile.” He said, brushing a thumb over the corner of his upturned mouth, “It’s beautiful.”

 

If possible, Cas’s smile grew before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips, smiling against them before leaning their foreheads together.

  
_Love, love, love_   
_Love, love, love_   
_Love, love, love_   
  
_All you need is love_   
_All you need is love_   
_All you need is love, love_   
_Love is all you need_   
  
_Nothing you can know that isn't known_   
_Nothing you can see that isn't shown_   
_Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be_   
_It's easy_

“Thank you for saving me Dean.” Cas said softly

 

“Thank you for showing me your smile.” Dean answered.

  
_All you need is love_   
_All you need is love_   
_All you need is love, love_   
_Love is all you need_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy ending is cheesy, but sweet. Anyhoo, I hope you liked my little fic! Let me know in comments how I did :)
> 
> The Things we Hide is still alive and well if you want more to read.
> 
> I love every single one of you who took the time to immerse themselves in my little world and especially those who commented.
> 
> Thank you so much
> 
> :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is a (mostly) completed, un-beta'd fic I've been working on and which I'll be updating every Tuesday. I haven't abandoned The Things We Hide, that one will continue to be updated every Friday (psst! if you haven't read it, you should check it out!)
> 
> Review and let me know what you thought!


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